A Nondenominational Holiday Miracle
by shippershape
Summary: Cameron wakes up from his coma just in time for Christmas. A lot of things have changed, but some things never will.


"It's a Christmas miracle!"

"Please stop saying that." Cameron mutters, flopping face first onto his couch.

"Well it is, bro! Come on, you're in a coma for months, _months_ , and then you suddenly wake up on Christmas eve?" Linus insists, folding his arms across his chest. He's watching Cameron again, but then he really hasn't _stopped_ watching Cameron since they checked out of the hospital over an hour ago.

"You know he's Jewish, right?" Kirsten asks, coming over to sit next to him, a bowl of grapes in her hand.

"Ish." Cameron corrects, plucking a grape from the bowl. She rolls her eyes.

"I'm sorry. Jewish-ish." She amends, pretending to look annoyed, though the twitch of her lips gives her away. That smile was the first thing Cameron saw when he opened his eyes, and he found himself thinking he might go blind from it's brightness. He hasn't seen it since the hospital, though, and the entire gang seems to be tip-toeing around him now, as if they're afraid they might stop his heart simply by being themselves.

Linus sighs.

"Whatever. I'm just saying, it can't be a coincidence." He sits next to Camille.

"Mmm." Kirsten makes a noise of disapproval. "It can. Coincidences are just the human mind trying to make sense of random patterns. Statistically, things like this are bound to happen every once in a while."

Cameron smiles, glad to see things haven't changed too much in his absence. He watches Kirsten and Linus bicker for a few minutes, then stifles a yawn. Not well enough, apparently, because Kirsten whips around to frown at him.

"Are you tired? Do you want to take a nap?" She's already on her feet, holding out a hand. He opens his mouth to tell her that he's been sleeping for months, thank you very much, and no he does not want a nap. But all that comes out is another yawn.

Defeated, he takes her hand, getting to his feet.

"Cameron needs his rest." Kirsten says, turning on Linus and Camille. For a horrifying moment, Cameron is reminded of his childhood. But then he feels her thumb brush across the back of his hand, and the anxiety turns to relief. Relief that it's over, relief that she's here with him. Relief that she waited.

The others get to their feet, giving him a quick pat on the back before heading to the door.

"We'll see you tomorrow." Camille says, taking Linus' hand. Cameron's eyebrows go up, because that's a new development as far as he's concerned. The last time he'd checked, those two had been at each other's throats.

"Yeah." He nods. "Thanks for…" he trails off, not really sure what to say. "Everything."

It's just been nice to have them here, to not wake up alone. To know he won't be alone tomorrow on Christmas.

When they're gone, Kirsten tugs on his arm.

"Bed." She says, and he lets her pull him into his bedroom. It isn't exactly as he left it, and he frowns at the sight of a phone cable lying on his bedside table. Kirsten catches him looking.

"That's, uh, mine." She says, turning to dig a pair of pajama pants out of his dresser. He raises an eyebrow.

"You've been sleeping here?"

She nods, turning back to him with a handful of flannel.

"Just every once in a while. Someone had to…water your plants."

He stares at her.

"I don't have plants." He says. She points to the corner, and sure enough, there's a tiny potted ficus. "I have plants?"

"Tim got it for you." She presses the pajamas into his hands.

"Tim got me a plant?"

She sighs.

"Yes."

Now that they're alone, he can't help but look at her. He knows she was there, in the hospital, remembers bits and pieces, traces of her voice that he thought he had imagined. She looks different, somehow. More tired, the dark circles under her eyes making that obvious. But there's something else. As he watches her, her expression turns uncertain.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head. "It's just weird. I missed months, you know? It's kind of hard to wrap my head around."

"Hmm." She turns her back to him, and he takes that at his cue to change.

"Like Camille and Linus, how long have they been back together?"

"Oh. Well." Her voice drifts over his shoulder. "Apparently they _aren't_. Not officially anyways. They're worried Maggie would make them sign HR forms or something."

"Uh-huh." He turns back around, tapping her on the shoulder. She swivels on her heel, eyes flitting down to his bare chest, then back to his face. He used to be self-conscious about his scar, but now, all things considered, he doesn't mind her seeing it.

"Let's just say Linus has been spending a _lot_ of time at my house." She tells him. "And seriously, I've been telling him to go to a nose and throat doctor for weeks, because I think he might have sleep apnea, and-"

Cameron kisses her.

He doesn't know what makes him do it, exactly, except that he's watching her lips move, and he's technically just come back from the dead, and it's all he wants, really, just to know what it would be like.

He expects her to pull away, to frighten easily. Irrationally, he's afraid she might faint, like she did the first time. Instead she wraps herself around him, pressing in until there's no space left between them, her hands in his hair. There's an energy to it that takes him by surprise, almost frantic, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is. Desperation.

With some difficulty, he pulls away. Her eyes are practically glowing, hair mussed, cheeks pink. But there's something to the brightness of her eyes, like tears are sparkling just beneath the surface.

"Hey." He says softly, still a little stunned by how enthusiastically she responded. "What's wrong?"

The happy look slides off her face.

"What do you-" She begins to protest, but he cuts her off, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Come on, Stretch. Talk to me." He guides her over to the bed, slipping an arm around her shoulder. She tenses, that neutral expression that was so familiar sliding over her face like a mask.

"I'm sorry." She says stiffly. "I thought you wanted-"

"I _do_." He says, maybe a little too emphatically. She glances at him, lips twitching.

"Okay." She leans forward, and he sees it coming, wincing as he blocks it by catching her shoulders. Hurt flickers over her features, and then the mask is back. "You know what? You should get some sleep." She stands up, and he reaches out, grabbing her wrist.

"Kirsten." He groans. "I don't want you to _leave_."

She just stares down at him, face unreadable.

"Then what do you want, Cameron? _You_ kissed _me_."

"I want you to tell me why you kissed me like… I was dying or something." He says, folding his arms across his chest. The accusation hits home apparently, pain flickering underneath that veneer of nonchalance.

"Because…" She seems to make a decision, her walls coming down all at once. Her shoulders slump, the mask sliding off to reveal a sad exhaustion that he suspects she's been hiding all day. "Because I didn't the first time."

He frowns at her.

"The first time-what?"

Kirsten sits gingerly beside him, seeming to almost fold in on herself. He's never seen her like this.

"When your heart stopped, and I stitched into you, do you know what I saw?"

He shifts uncomfortably, having a pretty good idea.

"I saw me. But not just me, I saw myself the way you see me. And it was so different." She says softly.

"From how you see yourself?" He wonders. She shrugs.

"Yeah, and how other people see me. You didn't look at me like I was broken, or damaged. You didn't just see the temporal dysplasia. You saw me. Parts of me I didn't even know were in there."

Cameron slips an arm around her, and to his surprise, she leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I always felt like such a nerd before I met you." He muses. She snorts, but he holds up a finger and she falls quiet. "And god, you put me in my place." He grins at the memory of it. "I was an MIT graduate with a PhD in Neuroscience, and you just came waltzing into my lab and made me question everything."

"You called me Queen of the Estupidos." She murmurs, struggling to keep a straight face. "You were so pretentious. And annoying."

"And after you kissed me, which I know you don't remember, I realized that boys like me don't get girls like you."

Kirsten makes a noise of disagreement, then straightens up beside him.

"You said it's weird, being awake after missing months. It's weird having you here, it doesn't feel real." She reaches out, running a thumb along his jaw, and he closes his eyes, savouring her touch.

"I thought,' he mumbles, eyes still closed, "-that Temporal Dysplasia was supposed to make those kind of adjustments easy. Feeling like things have always been this way and all that."

Her thumb stills, and he opens one eye.

"Well it isn't helping me now." She mutters. "I feel like if I blink you'll be gone again. It's so strange."

He reaches up to catch her hand, holding it against his cheek.

"I'm here, Stretch. I'm not going anywhere."

She looks at him, blue eyes locked onto his as though just by willing it she can anchor him to the spot.

She probably could.

Slowly, he leans forward again, brushing his lips softly against hers. She sighs, soft and sweet, and he pulls back.

"Stay tonight." He says. She nods.

She spends the night with her head on his chest, and he knows what she's doing, but lets it go.

The next morning, they're still in bed when Linus and Camille arrive. Linus is wearing an elf costume that startles Kirsten so badly that she elbows him in the face when he wakes her. The rest of the morning is lazy, and warm, and perfect. It's as though they're all suddenly catching their breath after months of holding it.

When the others begin exchanging gifts, Cameron looks down at his lap, face burning. He knows they don't expect anything from him, he was one day from spending the holiday in the hospital after all, but he's always loved this part of the holidays. He loves giving gifts, always has. But this year he just watches as Camille unboxes a pair of boots he finds particularly offensive and Linus moons over a pair of fancy headphones that cost about the same as Cameron's car insurance.

"Hey." He feels a hand on his shoulder, and looks up to see Kirsten frowning down at him.

"Nice hoodie." He says, nodding at the sweater in her hand. She sighs.

"Apparently Linus bought me a hoodie to replace the one he wore, after I told him I'd rather burn it than have it back."

He nods, forcing a smile.

"I wish I'd had time to get you something." He admits, running a hand through his hair. When he looks back at her, she's smiling.

"I could say something cheesy about you being the best gift I could have gotten." She offers, and though her voice is laced with sarcasm, he detects a hint of truth.

"Oh." He raises his eyebrows. "Are you flirting with me, Hallmark?"

"Might be, Doctor Goodkin."

Their staring contest is broken by a gagging noise. Cameron looks over to see Linus making a face at them.

"Get a _room_." He crows. Kirsten rolls her eyes. Turning back to Cameron, she places her hand lightly over his chest.

"This," she says, tapping her finger along with the rhythm of his heart, "is good enough for now." He places his hand over hers, face warm as he meets her eyes.

"Merry Christmas." He says softly, because he can't think of anything else when she's looking at him like that.

"Merry Christmas."

The next year, he gets her a ring.


End file.
